It had been decided. The finals for the Quidditch cup this year would be between Gryffindor and Slytherin - the first one in a decade, and the tension between the two houses was rising. It had been years, after all, since either house squared off in the biggest school event of the year. 

The tension between Seulgi and Irene had also been on the rise. Despite their good relations, it was sort of hard to be understanding when you were getting cursed and hexed by the other’s friends whenever you turned a corner. (Especially when they saw each other muffling their laughter at the sometimes hilarious curses that their friends pulled off - like growing a pig tail.)

“Seriously, Seul, why can’t you just tell them to stop? Don’t tell me you can’t even control your friends.” 

“It’s not that, Irene, I don’t even know them. How can I tell a bunch of random strangers to stop?”

“Uh, because what they are doing is obviously wrong? Is there a need for another reason?” 

“Oh please. It’s not like your friends haven’t been cursing me. Look, I still have this little pig tail growing out of my , like how are they so damn creative with this stuff?” Seulgi replies, turning around to show Irene her , and sure enough, a pink curly pig tail extends out from it, causing Irene to guffaw in laughter.

Seulgi warms at the sight. Irene laughing without reservations had always been her favourite view in the entire world, it was worth a thousand pig tails to her. (Okay, maybe a hundred. Or ten. Or just one. None.)

You’re in so deep, Wendy would have said had she seen the look of wonder and pure admiration adorning Seulgi’s face as she stared softly at Irene. 

“Seul? Seulgiiii? You have got to stop blanking out whenever I start laughing, Seulgi. It’s getting kind of old - is my laugh that weird?” Irene’s shaking her out of her stupor.

“Yup, you sound like an old lady who just ate asparagus for lunch.”

“Asparagus isn’t that bad Seulgi, if you would just try it once! Plus, I wouldn’t sound like one if your friends aren’t cursing me every time I turn a corner.” 

“Seriously, Irene, stop bring them into this. You know I can’t do anything about it." 

“And why should I? This is unjust treatment and you know it.”

“It’s like this for the finalists every year. What’s so different this year?”

“What’s so different? Oh, I don’t know, maybe the fact that you’re in the house that is bullying me?” 

“What? That doesn’t even make sense. So what if I am?”

“Seriously Ms Kang? Does it make no difference to you?” Irene finally snaps, hands on her hips.

What did I do this time? She’s not the one with the damn pig tail growing out of her - does she even know half the humiliation I face whenever I walk around in school? Even Mrs Norris, that damn cat that was born with a tail laughs at me, for heaven’s sake! Seulgi feels her brows furrow in annoyance.

“Yeah, it makes no difference to me, none that I can think of anyway.”

“We’re basically girlfriends, shouldn’t it be basic etiquette to stick up for the girl that you like? What, I’m not pretty enough for you anymore?” Irene says with a little laugh, trying to mask the insecurity in her voice. It works, for Seulgi doesn’t pick it up. (If only she did.)

“Oh, stop being so damn high and haughty, Irene. I bet you care more about your personal appearance than me. If you were the one who grew a pig tail you wouldn’t be saying that. Plus, we aren’t even official in the first place!” Seulgi shouts, feeling her frustration boil over at Irene, Irene with her calm demeanour and demanding voice, Irene with with that sick look on her face that basically shouted disgust when she looked at Seulgi’s friends, Irene that could be so damn stubborn at times.

Silence permeates throughout the room. 

“What?” Irene whispers, the look on her face broken. Seulgi stops, overcome with the realisation of what she had just done. She knew Irene had some insecurities about what they had, knew that at times Irene thought Seulgi was just playing along with her for the sake of it, that Irene was so insecure she would toss and turn in bed playing endless loops of her faults and failures.

What have I done?

She sees Irene, and that… that devastated look on her face, and a crack forms in her once whole heart. A heart whole because of Irene.

No, please. Let me take it back, let me take it all back. You’re my everything Irene, don’t ever think you’re not, not a single day goes by without me thinking of you, thinking of us, thinking of whatever we could be.

“Irene, I… I didn’t mean…” Seulgi attempts to move toward her, but Irene holds up a hand and Seulgi stops, stunned, for never before had Irene refuted contact with her, never in their 4 years of friendship - Was it even called friendship anymore? Were they still friends, after what Seulgi had done?

She tried to move forward again but to no avail, for Irene’s hand was the one spell that Seulgi could never break, no matter how hard she tried, and she could only watch, helpless, as Irene choked back sobs while tears streamed endlessly down her face.

I’m sorry. I’m so, so, sorry.

Seulgi tries yet again to move towards her, but Irene shakes her head and composes herself, before letting out a shaky “Go. Now.”

Seulgi stands, unmoving, and Irene whispers again, “Please.” And as if her legs were moving against her will, Seulgi felt herself turning towards the oaken door.

It was this moment that Seulgi would regret for the weeks to come - why she left when she should have stayed. 

She would lay in bed thinking of Irene, thinking whether she would be okay in the heaviest of thunderstorms, thinking whether she could cope with the pressure of being Slytherin’s seeker, and thinking why she had broken her promise of being with her when she needed it most, a promise sealed what felt like a lifetime ago with a pinky promise surrounded in pillows and blankets and the pitter patter of rain.

The door closes behind her, and Seulgi sinks down, hugging her knees close and the broken pieces of her heart closer. For she finally realises - I love her. I’ve always have. She’s my everything. So please, let me take it back. Let me mend the heart that made mine whole. 

She hears nothing, and the emptiness screams to her now broken heart.

But it was a pity that the room was soundproof, or she could have heard the strangled screams from the small frame in the middle of the room wrapped in a blanket meant for two, and rushed back against the hand that had refuted her to wrap Irene back in her embrace.